


The Sun

by connorstoll (quietrook)



Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, jastavian - Freeform, kind of???, ships nobody ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietrook/pseuds/connorstoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it was another tumblr request from a writing prompt so here ya go kids even though like no one ships this but me</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun

"Octavian."

"Grace."

The two stand on opposite sides of the alley, leaning against the walls. It was so hot that the paint was probably melting, Jason thought, holding Octavian's gaze. The streets of New Rome were full of people, but rarely did someone go back into the alleys between buildings. Most people didn't have anything to hide. Not like they did.

Jason was the first to drop his gaze as he straightened up. A smile twitched at the edges of his lips as he asked, "Did anyone see you leave?"

"Like anyone would notice," Octavian scoffed, crossing his arms. His pale complexion almost glowed under the shadows cast by the eaves. Jason soaked in his pallidity, his ashen blonde hair, his icy eyes and thought, he's beautiful. He bet no one looked at Octavian and thought he was beautiful.

Jason shrugged and tilted his head in the direction that the alley deadended. "Come on."

They set off, shoulders barely grazing as they went inbetween the walls that felt like they were closing in. Jason had always felt like he was suffocating whenever he and Octavian were in the same room; now it was almost literal in the sweltering heat. His hand accidentally brushed the other boy's and he couldn't help but notice how cool Octavian's skin was. Like the shadows.

"Sneaking around is getting a little old," Jason commented lightly, trying not to focus on that.

"Try not to speak, Jason," Octavian said, glancing at him briefly. "It puts a damper on the conversation."

"Maybe I like conversations," Jason said defensively. "There's nothing wrong with talking." He stopped and stood in the corner where the three buildings forming the dead end met. From this angle, he could see the sunlight hit the top of Octavian's hair quite nicely.

Octavian made a face.

"As I recall, we didn't start meeting here to talk." He leaned against the wall adjacent to Jason and scowled with all the intensity of a cirrus cloud.

"Maybe I want to talk," Jason retorted, crossing his arms.

"Maybe I don't. Maybe I think you should stop talking." Octavian leaned into the corner space where Jason was, looking him directly in the eyes the way a predator looks at his prey.

Jason swallowed and replied with as much assertiveness as he could muster, "Maybe you should make me."

Those were the last words that were said for a while; the next thirty minutes were spent in near perfect silence as Jason tangled his fingers in Octavian's hair, as Octavian's mouth moved down Jason's neck, as they slid to the ground with their legs entangled, Jason ending up on the ground as hands fumbled for buttons and zippers. Later, Jason left first, alone except for the new marks on his tanned neck. Their first meeting that summer -- Jason had almost forgotten that the boy liked to bite. 

He tasted like salt and self-loathing.


End file.
